Slow Dancing In A Burning Room
by dear runaway
Summary: ON HIATUS. She whirls on him, and her finger points at his face dangerously close. “You’re sorry, I know.” she literally screams it, having heard it so many times before. “But guess what, Scott? It’s not okay. It’s not, not this time.” NathanPeyton.
1. Prologue

_She whirls on him, and her finger points at his face dangerously close. "You're sorry, I know." she literally screams it, having heard it so many times before. "But guess what, Scott? It's not okay. It's not, not this time."_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own One Tree Hill, blah blah blah.  
**  
A/N: **This is the aftermath of the sex tape scandal, and it will be a Nathan/Peyton, with Brooke/Peyton friendship. Others have not been decided, nor has the rest of this story been. Hee, I'm just diving into this without a plot. Please review, and I might just continue. Title might change. 

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**Slow Dancing In A Burning Room.  
**_Prologue._

_"I would die if anybody saw this, Nathan."_

Brooke's voice fills the air, still and fragile, but the expression on her features and the naked, glistering skin that come into view suggests otherwise. Lucas adverts his eyes, not wanting to see his half-brother on top of the girl he used to adore, whilst Bevin hides her amusement behind her empty cup, stumbling against Skills.

_"Don't worry, nobody will ever know."_

Nathan's boasting seems to help, as Brooke lies down on the bed without any further objections.

As kisses were exchanged on the screen, Brooke stares into the silent crowd, disbelief written all across her face. Haley turns her head towards her in the utterest disgust, disgust she usually held for Rachel. Without a word, she flees from the room, holding her stomach as she went.

Nobody notices her; not since she had blindly stumbled into the room, shouting at them to turn the tape off.

"Haley-," she hears Nathan's distraught voice call out to his wife as her quick footsteps hurry away from the scene, and Haley is gone within seconds and sudden anger bursts from her. Haley does _not_ have the right to be angry, she does not have the right to be upset. She didn't even _exist _when this mishap fell into place. But she did, _Peyton did_, and in the back of her mind she knows exactly when this incident had taken place.

Her hand moves over her knuckle sub-consciously, remembers how she had slammed it against a wall in such anger when their twelfth break up had occurred that she had broken it. Brooke's giggle replays in her mind, and a small part of her tugs at her conscious and she understands; this was _Haley's husband_ who was benefiting his sexual needs on a tape like a wannabe Paris Hilton, it was not the Nathan Scott that had left her stranded at his beach house, furious at her. It wasn't _her _Nathan anymore.

But that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"Peyton," Brooke's voice pleads with her, gentle at first, but harder, louder at her second attempt. "_Peyton_-,"

Her fist curls into a ball, and before her conscious catches up with her emotions, her hand shoots out and slams her knuckles straight into Brooke's _beautifully_ hurt face structure. Brooke stumbles backwards and her lips let loose of a gasp. But no one comes to her aid, even Chase does not move a muscle, and it's this more than anything that calms her.

"Get out of my sight," she orders quietly, but the stunned brunette does not move, her hand covering the bruise just below her eye that would soon turn into a black and blue mark. Instead, Peyton turns on her heels herself, pushes her way past Lucas who opens his mouth to say something, anything, but decides against it when seeing his girlfriend's pissed off gaze.

"Peyton," Nathan, however, does not seem to get the hint, and a chill runs down her spine. She doesn't know whether it's because of her anger, or her frustration, or something else entirely, but she's not in the mood to discover what it is or hear his lame assed apologies. He takes a hold of her arm, and for a moment she contemplates listening to him, to his explanations like she did when they were still dating before she told him to screw himself. But instead, she shoves him away so roughly his grip loosens and she can escape; but not before she hears him, "I'm sorr-"

She whirls on him, and her finger points at his face dangerously close. "You're sorry, _I know_." she literally screams it, having heard it so many times before. "But guess what, Scott? _It's not okay_. It's not, not this time."

Nathan becomes quiet, lowering his gaze towards the floor while she bites on her lower lip to stop herself from lashing out some more. Walking backwards, she turns just before she reaches the door, and grips the handle. It takes two seconds for her to open it, three for her to leave the rest of them all behind. Four for her feet to rush over the porch, quickly down the steps, and five for the first tear to slide down her cheek.


	2. Not Enough

_She whirls on him, and her finger points at his face dangerously close. "You're sorry, I know." she literally screams it, having heard it so many times before. "But guess what, Scott? It's not okay. It's not, not this time."_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own One Tree Hill, blah blah blah.  
**  
A/N:** Thirteen reviews for my first chapter! That's definitely a record, thanks so much. I have every intention of continuing this fic even without a plot. Also, if you have the time, check out my other fics, especially **Stand Still**. There should be an update for that one too, this week. The dialogue between Lucas and Peyton is from the clip, but if you haven't seen this yet, then be warned: **it's a spoiler for the next episode**. 

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**Slow Dancing In A Burning Room.  
**_2. Not Enough.  
_**  
**

_Belief is a beautiful armour  
But makes for the heaviest sword  
Like punching under water  
You never can hit who you're trying for_

John Mayer's rich voice fills the room, bounces off the walls and echoes down the stairs. But it doesn't matter, daddy dearest is at sea's for the umpteenth time and she doesn't expect Brooke to skip inside, flop on her bed and talk about pervy IM's.

Hazel-green eyes gaze at the sketch lying in front of her, the bare figures of Nathan and Brooke on top of each other coming into sight. A red '_hypocr_' is stamped on the brunette's forehead, and her marker hovers over the paper to complete the word, but fingers don't move to write the _'ite'_. Instead, Peyton slumps down in her chair, and sighs. Suddenly hearing footsteps climbing onto the stairs, she leant forward and takes her marker, pretends to be busy when she's not before recognising the figure by his footsteps.

"Still upset?" he asks, and she rolls her eyes in their sockets.

"Yes, something like that you forget about pretty quick." she replies snarkily, wondering just how her boyfriend could question it. Lucas mumbles something, before he continues about the prom, _and how it would take her mind off of things_ whilst placing a soft, gentle kiss on her head.

She had almost forgotten about prom, glances towards her closed closet where her dress hangs in.

"Yeah, that should be fun," she then remarks dryly, sarcasm evident in her tone. "Maybe my cheating ex-boyfriend wants me to dance," she tilts her head backwards, and Lucas slowly rubs his fingers over her shoulders, "or I'll get to share some punch with my whore of an ex friend."

_It hurts, Lucas_, she wants to say, but instead covers it up with insults and sneers. It hurts because all this time, Brooke has done so much crap, said so much crap and she had taken it all because in the back of her mind, she knew she had deserved it for having feelings for Lucas when he was with her best friend, when he wasn't available anymore. But then she finds out that Brooke did the exact same thing, but worse. Never, _never_, had she slept with Lucas whilst he was with Brooke; and even though a kiss always meant something, sex obviously meant more because you gave yourself to another person. It's what Brooke had done.

It's what Nathan had done.

Peyton bites her lip, trying not to get her emotions get the best of her. She had known that Nathan went behind her back while they were together; she had heard the rumours, and had seen the smirks on the girl's he screwed. But actually seeing it, witnessing it on screen – it had hurted a lot more than it should have. It had brought back memories, the good and the bad, the ones she shouldn't remember or treasure but did.

"I know this sucks, okay, but you shouldn't let it ruin the prom." Lucas tells her, louder than he intended and it annoys her.

"It shouldn't, but it has." she replies honestly, drawing some lines on the sheet of paper before her.

"For what it's worth, I saw Brooke this morning," he says, and something snaps inside of her. "She feels horrible about this," he ends his sentence, but her ears had stopped listening as a smile of disbelief tilts her lips up.

"So the first thing you did this morning was go see _Brooke_?" she snarls, and Lucas instantly knows that he did something wrong, quickly trying to defend himself.

"It was on the way-"

"You know what else is on the way? My front door. Shut it when you leave."

For a moment, she wishes he wouldn't listen to her for once, that he would lean down and hold her, tell her that everything was going to be okay, kiss her forehead, and just stays with her. But he doesn't. His hands leave her shoulders, and it's with a sigh he drags his feet away and out of her room, not once looking back.

There used to be a connection between them. When Lucas knew exactly how she felt, and knew exactly what to say to cheer her up and make her feel wanted, make her feel loved. But ever since they officially started going out, she didn't feel it anymore. She knew she loved him, she had gone through mud for him, she had broken her friendship with Brooke for him – but she just felt like she didn't know him anymore.

_What if_, her mind quietly murmurs to her, _what if you're better off as just friends?_

She didn't want to think about it, she just wanted her Lucas back and forget about the tape.

Forget about Brooke, and forget about Nathan.

_"Don't worry, nobody will ever know."_

Bastard. His smirk and the glow in his eyes would be forever burn behind her eyelids, and though it happened almost three years ago, she couldn't help but wonder.

_Hadn't she been good enough for him? _

Brooke had done so many things to impress Lucas that she had found absolutely stupid and unnecessary, because a boy should like you for who you are and not for what you did – but now that she looks back, she knows that she was the exact same when it came to Nathan. At the beginning of their relationship, she had always asked Brooke for advice on how to handle things, and whether she looked good enough – everything that she loathed now because in the end, it hadn't even mattered. He had been so good for her, but after his father pressured him into basketball, everything had changed. Nathan had lied to her. He had cheated on her. He had argued with her. He had made her feel like she wasn't important enough for him.

Yet, she had still loved him. And a part of her knew that she always would, just like Jake had taken a piece of her heart with him and Jenny. Because Nathan was her first love, you couldn't forget your first love and even though she always denied it to him, they had been pretty good together – at first.

But now he and Haley were damn good together; better than they had ever been, right?

_Snap out of it, Peyton!_ She tells herself, frowning at her own thoughts. _It doesn't matter so don't turn nostalgic on your own ass._

Her phone rings, and she doesn't even take a glimpse at it to know its Brooke. But she doesn't want to talk to her, doesn't want to confront her, at least not yet.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" A deep voice intrudes her privacy, and a frown immediately comes across her features.

"I should really lock my door," she answers in response, not turning around to face him.

"Look, Peyton-"

"Save it, Nathan. I don't want to hear it."

"But you're going to," he demands, turning around her chair roughly so that she has to face him. She stares right into his blue eyes, eyes that were so much like Lucas' – or was it Lucas' that were so much alike Nathan's? They were so intense, as if they could look right into your soul. She lowers her gaze to the floor, determined not to look at him or listen to him just to avoid the blue hues of his orbs.

He cups her chin with his hand, and tilts it up so she can see his hardened expression, has to see the look in his eyes that were solemnly fixed on her. "You have to understand," he murmurs, "I never meant to hurt you. You weren't supposed to see that. It happened after we broke up at Tim's party, Brooke and I were drunk, and-"

A sudden burst of anger explodes from her chest, and she stands up, which makes him back away. She doesn't know what to believe, but somehow it hurts even more knowing he dove into bed with someone else just moments after they had broken up and she had left the party, furious and in near tears with nobody coming after her. "Did you tell Haley that, too? You know, your wife? Aren't you supposed to be consoling her right now?"

His eyes noticeably dull at the mention of his wife, and he shoves his hands into his pockets. "Haley is staying at Karen's," he tells her, his voice raw, before continuing softly. "She asked me for a list of everyone I ever slept with."

Peyton can't help but laugh inwardly at that, and folds her arms over her chest. "Let me guess, you want my help? Well, let's see. There's Theresa, and Bevin, and oh, of course, _you can't forget Brooke_, and I think Haley also mentioned something about her _sister_?" Nathan looks hurt at her outburst, obviously not proud of his sexual past, and for a moment she feels good about hurting him – because he hurted her so many times before.

"Peyton, I'm sorry." He tells her once again, not knowing what else to say. He still remembers her words from just a few weeks before, when she had wrapped her arms around him into an embrace, and told him that she was proud of him. It had felt so good to have her into his arms again, and it had felt even better knowing that she was proud of his actions, even after telling her about Daunte.

But now, he had failed her. And he didn't know how to make it right.

Peyton shrugs, telling him what he already knew.

"Sometimes sorry isn't enough."


	3. Sticks and Stones

_She whirls on him, and her finger points at his face dangerously close. "You're sorry, I know." she literally screams it, having heard it so many times before. "But guess what, Scott? It's not okay. It's not, not this time."_

**Disclaimer:**If I owned OTH, I'd kick Mark out.  
**  
A/N:**An update from me, now what do you know? This isn't really a NathanPeyton chapter, but more focused on how Peyton feels and a bit of the BrookePeyton friendship. I hope you lot enjoy!

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******SLOW DANCING IN A BURNING ROOM.**  
3. _Sticks and stones._

Five days and fourteen hours pass and she hears nothing.

Brooke has stopped calling, obviously having remembered that she is just as furious with Peyton as she was with her, and all because of one thing: Lucas. _What is with Scott men_, Peyton thinks, _that makes them so insufferable but needed at the same time?_ She knows Brooke still has feelings for her boyfriend, even though Brooke was the one that had given him up. But for what? It wasn't her, she knows, because their friendship had been ended right at the moment when she had told her former best friend that she thought she still had feeling for Lucas.

A small part of her wishes it had been for her though, that Brooke had given up Lucas for Peyton, which amuses the blonde. _Hoes over bros my ass_, she snorts, but can't help but feel guilty at the same time. She was the one that had messed things up in the first place.

No. It didn't matter. Brooke had messed up long before she did, sleeping with Nathan like a common whore.

Peyton's world is cracked.

---

She sighs, glancing scornfully at the white dress that still hung in its place. She hadn't gone to prom, had not opened the door when Lucas had knocked. She wasn't the one to hold grudges, Brooke was, but this had hurt her a lot more than she could have ever imagined. But still, after almost a week, she still couldn't put her finger on the reason why. It had happened three years ago. Why couldn't she get over it and just move on?

Another feeling of guilt wells up in the pit of her stomach, as her subconscious whispers into her head. _Maybe you're not over Nathan_, it says, and she feels like her alter ego is taking over again; the fallen angel who only appeared when she was feeling miserable and lonely. _You never had the chance to mourn for your broken relationship, Peyton, you were too busy longing after Lucas and wanting to have what Brooke seemingly had with him, you wanted the Scott brother who knew how to love. _She had been so caught up into Lucas that she had pushed the feelings she had held for Nathan deep inside of her, where they still drifted afloat but didn't dare to come up.

Nathan had changed into the man she had always wanted him to be, but not because of her, but because of Haley. _His wife_, Peyton thinks, and now she feels even more guilt for even thinking about Nathan in this way, because Haley is the closest thing she has right now, with Lucas avoiding her because she's angry and Brooke ignoring her very existence.

She wants to cry, out of lack of anything better to do with herself.

So she does.

Peyton's world has crumbled just a bit.

---

It's four hours later that she hears something downstairs, and she sits up on her bed with dried tears staining her face. She thinks, hopes, it's her dad and rubs over her face, feeling her cheeks glow hotly. She waits, not wanting to go downstairs in case it's Nathan stopping by to apologize once more, or Lucas asking her to go out and get some fresh air because he knows she's been hauled up in her room all day long.

It's Brooke.

She wants to scream at her, _what are you doing here_, but all words die out in her throat when seeing the shocked expression on the brunette's face, tears running down her own cheeks and cascading over her throat. Peyton's feet are on the ground within seconds, anger replaced by worry and concern as she sees the anxiety on Brooke's face.

"Peyton," her voice cracks, her voice raspier than usual. She just keeps mumbling her name and Peyton feels as though a boulder had launched itself into her stomach, fear chilling down her spines. Her arms instantly wrap around the trembling brunette, who is slowly sinking towards the floor before she whispers quietly.

"I have cancer."

Peyton's world falls apart.


End file.
